


of bank heists and tears

by Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror



Series: Disaster Management [5]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Graphic Description, Hurt Endeavour Morse, Protective Fred Thursday, Self-Sacrificing Endeavour Morse, hes a walking disaster Im sorry, im really sorry, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror/pseuds/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror
Summary: Thursday had always protected his family. He'd always save them from harm's way, but what happens when the cost is too great?*the alternative ending to Coda *that literally everyone wanted really**
Series: Disaster Management [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757095
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	1. Save her

Primarily, a fathers job is to protect his children, put their needs and safety above all else. That’s one of the things Fred Thursday swore to do. It’s what was expected of him and what he expected in himself. Perhaps it wasn’t in the forefront of him mind becoming a police officer, but he also valued being a good honest man, someone his kids could look up to. The only downside was it was very easy to make an enemy of dangerous people, like Vince Kasper. He’d protected his family through that and he’d sure as hell do it again. Only this time it was Joan, and they’d already taken her.

He couldn’t afford any slip ups, no second thoughts or hesitations. He was getting his daughter back if it killed him.

Hearing her scream snapped something primal in Fred, an overwhelming need to protect and kill, he’d been feeling it for a while now, a deep anger set in him ever since the damn night in Blenheim vale. And now it was free.

He left Strange behind, bounding down the stairs to the back exit where the source of the sounds came from, instantly latching onto his daughter being dragged away by Cole Matthews.

“Armed police!” He bellowed, firing shots in the air as a warning. He wasn’t afraid to shoot. Even if it meant he was the collateral. As long as Joan was safe.

Cole immediately turned and fired blindly at him and Strange, dragging Joan behind the getaway car.

There was no clear shot, no way to get to Joan or even take one of the brothers down.

Shots continued ringing out, hitting the windows of the cars they hid behind, sending shards of brick crumbling as they missed their intended target.

Suddenly one of the brothers moved to take another shot, only to be beaten to it by strange, sending a bullet into his right shoulder.

He immediately fell to the ground, gripping his shoulder and crying out.

“Pete! Pete! Are you alright?”

Cole was panicking. Thursday could see it. if only he could get a clear shot and then-

“Throw the gun or she gets it!” Cole had Joan in his hold. With a fucking gun to her head.

He couldn’t do anything. he couldn’t risk it, he immediately stepped into sight, hands in the air not taking his eyes off the gun pointed at his daughter.

“Put it down!”

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be completely useless against someone that threatened so much of his life.

But there was nothing he could do. Slowly, he kneeled to put his gun on the floor.

“Chambers empty!” He heard Morse shout from the far side of the alley.

Thursday’s head shot up.

“Only he’s too stupid to count to six!”

Matthews swung his gun around "I'll show you-" 

There. He found his feet quicker than he knew possible.

Pull. Release.

The deafening sound of the gunshot in his ear came milliseconds later but Matthews was already on the ground.

Joanie was free. Joanie was safe but it wasn’t enough.

He was a threat to his family. He threatened his daughter because of him. He put Joan in danger and that danger was still alive, even with a bullet in the shoulder.

His eyes burned red, not leaving Matthews’ for a second, gun still aimed, finger still on the trigger, waiting to shoot again. And he wanted to. My god he wanted to sink 5 more bullets in that pathetic excuse for a man.

“Take me in then law man.” Cole sneered at him from the ground still with that insufferable grin on his face. what he wouldn’t do to wipe it off his smug -

“Morse?” Strange’s voice came from behind, breaking him out of his manic thoughts.

He turned to Joan in instinct to see her wide eyed, hands over her mouth like she was screaming but no sound escaped her. He followed her line of sight to Morse, stood rigidly by the alley wall.

He lowered his gun. “Morse?” Thursday repeated.

The boy was pale as a sheet, paler even, sharing the same expression as Joan. He finally looked up, making eye contact with Fred and faintly moved his mouth in an attempt to speak. Only a strangled moan escaped the detective, followed by a horrifying shade of scarlet, running down his chin.

“Morse!” Strange and Thursday shouted in unison, chasing the younger man to the floor as his knees buckled, only just catching him by the shoulders.

“I need an ambulance! Someone get an ambulance!” Thursday yelled, looking around frantically for anyone who could help.

He laid Morse flat on the ground to find he was looking at him, glass eyed and too still. too damn still.

Thursday felt his heart contract in his chest. How could he have missed that? How could he have been so blind sided in rage he didn’t notice his own bagman being hit in the fallout?

Blood was soaking it’s way through Morse’s shirt, creeping up the fabric like a slow spreading disease. the bullet looked to still be in his lower abdomen, which was something to be thankful of, an exit point would destroy all hope of survival.

“Morse? I’m going to put pressure on the wound okay?”

Morse didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch when Thursday practically put his whole body weight on the wound. He’d been in the army long enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.

“Morse? You need to stay with me. You hear me? That’s an order.” Thursday gritted out, watching his hands drown in crimson liquid. The warmth made his stomach turn. The smell made him gag. Morse was dying. Morse was dying because he did what Fred couldn’t. He saved Joan.

He looked back to Morse, trying not to think about how much blood he was losing.

He was crying now, not a childlike cry, he hardly even looked upset. Tears ran down his face, not taking his eyes off Fred.

“You’re alright, Morse. You’re going to be alright.”

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince at this point, maybe Morse, maybe himself, even though both men knew better. Morse knew he was dying and so did Fred.

“S-sir.” Morse muttered out alongside a fresh trickle of blood.

“None of that lad, don’t talk, keep your energy.” Fred choked out, unaware of his own tears falling onto Morse.

“Just n-eed’d t’ say… th’nk you… f’r e’rything.”

“No, no. don’t do this Morse. You’re not dying on me.” _I’m no losing another bagman. A son._

Morse furrowed his eyebrows as if he was focusing on Fred. “’ts okay.” He stuttered out.

“No damn you its not alright. You aren’t dying. You’re going to be okay.”

Morse smiled slightly, if it could be called that, a more fitting description would be a grimace, showing a slither of blood-stained teeth. “Ne-never was one… t’ foll’w orders.”

Fred huffed a defeated laugh. “Just follow this one. just this once, _please_.”

“’m s’rry.” Morse whispered slowly, face relaxing into a youthful state, body going limp.

“No. No Morse. Don’t do this. No. no.” He checked his pulse, but he knew before his fingers touched Morse’s throat, he wouldn’t find one. his eyes were unfocused and staring into nothingness, his chest no longer moving.

“No!”

Suddenly he was on his knees, hands balled into a fist pressing down on Morse’s heart, in a fast-rhythmic motion. “Don’t do this, Morse. Come back to me.”

He could hear crying in the background, people shouting and car doors slamming but it was if he wasn’t experiencing them himself. He felt detached, he was pushing his weight onto Morse, but he felt lighter than ever, like it wasn’t his body. All he could do was stare at Morse’s lifeless expression. It didn’t compute to him that the screams he could hear were his own.

The first thing he really did register were hands pulling at his shoulders, trying to tear him away from Morse.

He tried to shake them off, he had to keep going. He had to bring Morse back.

“Thursday!” Strange yelled down his ear, distracting him enough to yank Thursday off Morse, throwing him back into real life.

Suddenly the noises were very present, the movements around him now clear. The ambulance had arrived, the paramedics were helping Morse, but it was too late. he wasn’t coming back.

He slumped back, sitting on the wet ground, legs out in front of him like they were made of lead, watching the paramedics do what Fred had been attempting for god knows how long.

He hated that they were touching him. hated that they had more chance of saving him than Fred did. Hated that they wouldn’t leave him to rest. Did he not deserve that much?

He was spiralling again. Detaching from what was right in front of him, no matter how much he clung to reality he was zoning, unable to focus, hardly able to breathe.

A yell made him snap out. Morse’s eyes flung open, sucking in a strangled breath.

“Morse!”

But Morse had already slipped back into unconsciousness, being loaded onto a stretcher, and shipped off to hospital, leaving Thursday with a wisp of dust and blood dried hands.

He stood like that for a good moment before Strange placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, before the DCI turn to face him.

Strange gave him a sympathetic smile. “He’ll be alright. He’s a stubborn one.”

Fred nodded solemnly. If only he had that much confidence.

“Oh Fred.” He heard behind him, revealing Win reaching out to him with one arm, the other wrapped protectively around Joan who had her face buried in Wins neck, crying.

For the second time today, he could feel tears brimming. They were safe, and for now he had to be grateful for that. it could have been much worse, he reminded himself. But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine how. The empty despair he could feel coursing through him couldn’t have been much worse if it were Joan in Morse’s place. 

He stumbled forward, careful to keep his hands away, he couldn’t taint Win with the horrifying stain of what happened.

She didn’t say anything, simply giving him a reassuring grip on his arm and a sad smile and he was glad. Win knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better, nothing could.

“I’ve got to get to the hospital, pet.”

“I know, Fred. We’ll come soon, we just need a freshen up and a hot meal, isn’t that right Joan, hm?”

Joan pulled away, looking to her mum with red rimmed eyes and mascara down her face and nodded dully.

“Right we are, come on now. I’ll bring you something too Fred.” She said so softly it almost set Fred off again, but he couldn’t.

He had to be strong now. he could see Win was trying her best to keep everyone together, but he knew how close she held Morse. He was their unspoken second son, and right now he needed his family.


	2. It's what you do for family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry, its actually a joke how long this took me to update but blame it on writers block and being dragged into other fandoms, i just hate having incomplete fics so here it is :))

His heart was beating. He knew this from the faint beeping in the background. His chest was rising and falling as he breathed, but he knew if they removed the ventilator that would stop. Morse was alive but he wasn’t. The machines kept him that way. Fred knew that, he wasn’t giving himself false hope.

It took over five hours to fix the damage the bullet had done to his abdomen. Almost critical blood loss, ruptured liver, severe haemorrhaging. It’s a miracle even the machines could keep him alive.

The doctors couldn’t tell him if he was going to pull through, let alone expect a full recovery.

Joan and Win had come by for an hour or so, but after the day his Joan had had, Win insisted on her getting some shuteye, leaving Fred alone with Morse once again.

The lad was laid out in straight lines, head propped on two pillows to allow better access for the ventilator with a sickly light blue hospital gown covering the parts of him not hidden by the thin bed sheet. Win, bless her soul, had brought a spare blanket from home, covering the bottom half of the bed. ‘Get his circulation going a bit’ she’d said, and really, what harm could it do. It couldn’t get any worse.

So there Fred sat, hunched over in the seat angled facing the head of the bed, hands clasped between his knees, eyes never leaving Morse for more than a few seconds.

If he took his attention away from the lad, lower his guard for a mere second, he feared he’d slip away. logically it made no sense, of course Fred wasn’t going to have an influence on Morse’s body mending itself, but it felt like he had a duty to look over him. Morse was here because Fred couldn’t protect his daughter, couldn’t keep her or Morse safe and here they were.

It should have been him, Fred thought to himself. He should have been the one to take the bullet, give the ultimate sacrifice, but he hadn’t, and he knew he would never forgive himself if Morse didn’t come back from this.

Fred wondered, if Morse were biologically his would he love him more? He couldn’t imagine so. It felt like he was his kid in all the way that mattered and he swore if Morse made it through, he’d make more of an effort to show it.

He reached out, taking Morse’s hand gently. “I’m here Morse. right here.” Fred whispered, breaking the silence. “You just need to keep fighting. Keep being the stubborn lad I know you are.”

He paused, as if he were waiting for the younger man to respond, but nothing changed. The rhythmic sound of the heart monitor continued, the clicking of the ventilator still sounded each breath.

“I can’t lose you Morse… I can’t.”

Fred ran a hand down his face, attempting some composure. “The nurses said there’s a chance you can hear me, probably a load of nonsense but if you can, if you’re in there, come back to us son… we need you. _I_ need you. you’ve done so well, Morse, better than I ever could have. You just need to wake up so I can tell you myself. You need to wake up so Win can smother you with dumplings and knit you scarves when it gets cold. You need to wake up because I who else will listen to my constant ramblings over a pint and tell me what my sandwich isn’t going to be, even though secretly I know too. I need you, kid. You family needs you.”

After a few more hours Fred drifted off, sleeping awkwardly in the stiff chair, waking in the morning with a crick in his neck and a sore shoulder but seeing Morse had made it through the night made it worth it.

Nurses came in to check regularly after that, Fred sitting silently out of the way, watching over Morse constantly unless Win visited with a change of clothes and something to eat.

Strange was the first to visit, which was no surprise. He was, he supposed, one of Morse’s closest friends, and regrettably, the first to see Morse go down.

“Sir.” He said in his usual slightly nervous manner, handling a plastic punnet of grapes.

“Strange.”

He took that as an invitation, edging further into the room, letting the door close behind him. “How ugh, how is he?”

“Too early to tell, apparently.”

“I ugh, brought these, but ah…”

“It’s a nice thought. Though I’m not sure he’ll get any use of them.”

“Well, do feel free to have them, how long you been here?”

Thursday leaned back into the chair; elbows propped on the arm rests. “Haven’t left.”

Strange raised his eyebrow, even though he couldn’t be overly surprised. This was what Fred was like every time Morse got himself in harm’s way. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about me, Wins doing enough of that.”

Strange smiled fondly.

“DeBryn said he’d pop by as soon as he could.”

“You’re the first. Bar Win and Joan of course.”

“I’m sure he’ll be around soon, he was pretty worried when he heard the news, thought Bright was gonna’ faint when he found out.”

That gave Fred a slight smile. “I’m sure they’ll visit when they can.”

“Yes, Sir. Has his family been informed?”

Fred shook his head. “Parents are dead, the landline for his sister has changed so we have no way of contacting her.”

Strange nodded solemnly.

“The Matthews brothers have been arrested. Life without chance of Parole if Bright has anything to do with it.”

“Good riddance.” Thursday spat, making Strange flinch slightly, reminding him of his bosses viscousness the day previous.

Strange took a moment, trying to gage the best way to approach the topic. “Are you alright Sir? Haven’t been yourself lately.”

Thursday was silent for long enough to make Strange feel like he ignored his question completely before the older man let out a long sigh. “Thought it was all over. Doc said I had three weeks if that.”

“And now?”

“Seems I’m not quite finished after all. Hacked up the last of the bullet, probably due a doctors appointment.”

“Is that why you’ve been-“

“Been what?”

“I don’t know, gov, on edge? Angry?”

Thursday sighed. “It’s childish, I know. But it just wasn’t fair. I’ve done everything to serve this country, keep people safe, and there I was dying whilst low life criminals waltzed around without a care.”

Strange nodded. “It must have been frustrating.” 

“And now I’m suspended, and Morse is barely breathing. Feel like I’ve made a hash of it all.”

“Nothings unfixable, sir.”

Thursday gave a half smile, wishing he had some of the constable’s optimism.

* * *

It was a week of restless sleep before Morse even showed signs of waking. The doctors knew it was coming. His blood pressure was improving by the day and eventually they were able to take the tube from his throat, breathing on his own accord. Every tiny step felt like a milestone to Fred, amazed that this time last week they weren’t even sure he’d survive the night, and now he grew stronger by the day.

It still came as a surprise to Fred to find bright blue eyes staring back at him when he looked up from the morning paper. He had to do a comedic double take to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“Morse?”

“Sir.” Morse croaked out.

“You’re awake.”

Morse frowned like Thursday hadn’t just pointed out the obvious. “Where ‘m I?”

“Hospital lad, been over a week.” Fred shook his head, taking the boys hand. “You’re actually _awake_. You’re okay.”

Morse looked even more confused now. “What…Joan! Is Joan?-“

“Joan’s fine, Morse.” Fred quickly reassured, trying to keep the lad calm. “You made sure of that. As for the Matthews they won’t be seeing sunlight for as long as I can help it.”

Morse nodded, staring at the IV in the back of his hand.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Thursday shook his head, letting out a huff. “Fine? If this is your version of fine, I never want to hear you saying that again.” 

“could be worse-“

“No. Don’t say that. this was worse.” Thursday cut in. “This is the worst it could get without you actually dying... You can’t keep doing this to me, making me old before my time, you are.”

Morse smiled slightly. “Thought that was Sam and Joan.”

“Yeah well, maybe your kids aren’t always biological.”

Morse frowned, confused by Thursday’s meaning but the older man’s face said it all. His eyes were filled with kindness and love and it’s the safest Morse had felt in a long time.

“There isn’t really a way to thank you for what you did for Joanie, I know you wouldn’t accept it anyways, but… Thank you.”

Morse nodded and seemed to relax when Thursday carded a hand through his hair when he stood.

“I should get a doctor, see you’re alright.”

“Thank you… for being here.”

Fred smiled fondly, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “Don’t need to thank me lad. It’s what you do for family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if it seems not as polished as my other stories but its finished yay  
> I've missed this fandom and you lovely readers <3 ILY


End file.
